Kazan eBook

After this Kazan went down to the creek and buried
his burning muzzle in the cold water. This gave
him some relief, but only for a short time. The
quills that remained worked their way deeper and deeper
into his flesh, like living things. Nose and
lips began to swell. Blood and saliva dripped
from his mouth and his eyes grew red. Two hours
after Gray Wolf had retired to her nest under the
windfall a quill had completely pierced his lip and
began to prick his tongue. In desperation Kazan
chewed viciously upon a piece of wood. This broke
and crumpled the quill, and destroyed its power to
do further harm. Nature had told him the one
thing to do to save himself. Most of that day
he spent in gnawing at wood and crunching mouthfuls
of earth and mold between his jaws. In this way
the barb-toothed points of the quills were dulled and
broken as they came through. At dusk he crawled
under the windfall, and Gray Wolf gently licked his
muzzle with her soft cool tongue. Frequently
during the night Kazan went to the creek and found
relief in its ice-cold water.

The next day he had what the forest people call “porcupine
mumps.” His face was swollen until Gray
Wolf would have laughed if she had been human, and
not blind. His chops bulged like cushions.
His eyes were mere slits. When he went out into
the day he blinked, for he could see scarcely better
than his sightless mate. But the pain was mostly
gone. The night that followed he began to think
of hunting, and the next morning before it was yet
dawn he brought a rabbit into their den. A few
hours later he would have brought a spruce partridge
to Gray Wolf, but just as he was about to spring upon
his feathered prey the soft chatter of a porcupine
a few yards away brought him to a sudden stop.
Few things could make Kazan drop his tail. But
that inane and incoherent prattle of the little spiked
beast sent him off at double-quick with his tail between
his legs. As man abhors and evades the creeping
serpent, so Kazan would hereafter evade this little
creature of the forests that never in animal history
has been known to lose its good-humor or pick a quarrel.

Two weeks of lengthening days, of increasing warmth,
of sunshine and hunting, followed Kazan’s adventure
with the porcupine. The last of the snow went
rapidly. Out of the earth began to spring tips
of green. The bakneesh vine glistened
redder each day, the poplar buds began to split, and
in the sunniest spots, between the rocks of the ridges
the little white snow-flowers began to give a final
proof that spring had come. For the first of
those two weeks Gray Wolf hunted frequently with Kazan.
They did not go far. The swamp was alive with
small game and each day or night they killed fresh
meat. After the first week Gray Wolf hunted less.
Then came the soft and balmy night, glorious in the
radiance of a full spring moon when she refused to
leave the windfall. Kazan did not urge her.
Instinct made him understand, and he did not go far
from the windfall that night in his hunt. When
he returned he brought a rabbit.